I noticed my mother was wearing a skimpy G-string bikini with a hot little top that barely covered her sizable nipples.“I am not wearing one of thos... bikinis,” I insisted.“I don’t give a crap if you wear a paper bag. You can wear a bathing suit or jeans for all I care. You are not my problem. You can get up and fix yourself breakfast or go hungry. We are leaving in twenty minutes,” My mom pivoted to leave. Her ass was red as if she had been spanked a few times.“What if I don’t WANT to go?” I. Her tongue caressed my folds and clit. Sometimes it dived into my hole and swirled around, stirring up my nerves. My flesh drank in every place she touched me. My pussy clenching and relaxing as the pleasure built in my core.I would cum hard on her lips.My hands slid up my stomach, sending wicked flutters down to my aching pussy. My fingers reached the bottom slopes of my breasts. I grasped my firm mounds, squeezing my flesh. My nipples ached on the peaks of my mounds. My fingers slipped up. More

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